


Hoxton Fixes a TV

by Dionaea



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-08-25 05:25:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16655038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dionaea/pseuds/Dionaea
Summary: Hoxton receives an unexpected late night phone call, but he's kind of in the middle of something.





	Hoxton Fixes a TV

**Author's Note:**

> A lil nsfw writing commission I did awhile back! Pretty much my first time writing either of these characters.
> 
> Implied Wolf/Hox

It wasn’t something he did often. Truthfully, it made him feel kind of pathetic - but with a face like his, hitting up the bars wasn’t really an option. His scars were good for making other criminals take him seriously, but women? Not so much. At least that was how he saw it.

He wasn’t the type for porn, either. Most times, the urge just sort of caught him on accident. An itch he needed to scratch, if his mind - or his hand - started to wander, as it had now. Hoxton swallowed, catching a soft hum in his throat as he idly rubbed his thumb over the smooth head.

He had adjusted his hold, started to move when the phone on the nightstand buzzed obnoxiously. And kept buzzing. A phone call. The heister gave a bit of an exasperated sigh – considered just ignoring it. But he paused to at least see who it was. Wolfie. His brows knit slightly, and he looked to the clock. “What in fuckin’ hell..” Then again, Wolf, if anybody, was known for making phone calls at strange hours. Usually about strange subjects, for that matter.

Hoxton kind of liked the random calls, truth be told. He liked the sound of Wolf’s voice and had even nearly fallen asleep to it more than once, as the Swede tended to ramble. He considered what he had been doing but, just before the last couple buzzes of the phone, he picked up. “’Ey, Wolfie. D’you know what time o’ night it is?” He received a small and slightly dumbfounded ‘no’ in response, right before Wolf started into whatever he had called to ramble about. Hox couldn’t help a soft smile. It was the type of smile his coworkers didn’t see much from him.

He remained a bit distracted, though. He felt a little reluctant, a little ashamed, but his hand eventually crept back down to what it had been doing. Took hold of himself again and started to move, steady but not too fast just yet. He liked Wolf’s voice. Could almost imagine how the man might sound short of breath… and in the meantime worked to keep his own breathing stifled as his breaths came headier, a little more strained. It was risky and he felt kind of bad, but somehow that just fueled him to keep going. 

Another hum escaped him, sort of the beginnings of a groan. Wolf finally paused. “You OK Hoxifier? You’re breathing a little funny.”  
“Uh.. Yeah, I just got you on speaker while I’m workin’.”  
“What are you working on?”  
“.. Uh.. I’m workin’ on stuff. Just uh… Fixin’ the TV,” he finally managed.  
“I could help,” the Swede was quick to offer.  
“No, no, it’s fine, I got it. You can keep.. keep talking.” Another short exchange, but Wolf relented and continued. Hoxton did too. He tilted the phone so the receiver was further from his nose and mouth. His hand went faster. Heat was building under his skin, and he found it harder to pay attention to what Wolf was actually saying.

“Ah, fuck..” The word came out in a shiver. The heat was building, burning. He was so close. “No, I’m good,” Hox insisted quickly after his short cuss, though he couldn’t help his voice coming out a little husky, breathing still a bit strained. “Thanks, though,” he offered in the same tone, flashing a lazy smile even though Wolf couldn’t see it. Wolf was always so kind to him. He craved the man’s company right now, but this would have to do. It was probably why he liked the phone calls. Just having Wolf on the phone like this sated some of the loneliness he sometimes felt at home. Hoxton had felt so isolated in prison, and he hadn’t quite been able to shake the feeling of it even after being broken out.

He shuddered. His hips pressed up toward his hand, which moved swiftly, smoothly, unrelenting, his arm tense with the concentrated effort. Finally he felt an urgent throbbing in his hand – and then hot release, bursting, spilling over his skin. He breathed hard but still worked to keep it quiet. Couldn’t help another soft sound that might have been a groan in other circumstances. “I got it, I got it,” Hoxton reassured his coworker a bit breathlessly. Poor Wolfie was probably pretty concerned with how difficult fixing this TV was for him. “Yeah. It’s good, thanks.” He spared a soft laugh. Softer than most of the crew got to hear often.

His need finally settling and a drowsy calm overtaking him in its place, he gazed down for the mess on his hand. “Mm.. It’s gettin’ late, Wolfie. Can’t keep my eyes open much longer. Mmhm. ‘Ey, I’m not totally useless with that kind of thing. Thanks though. Mmhm. G’night.” He didn’t really want to hang up, but he did really want to clean up. In all likelihood, Wolf would call again in another couple hours. Hopefully Hoxton could actually pay attention then.


End file.
